


Private Lessons in the Art of Naivety, Dominance, and Occasionally Alchemy

by OkaySky



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Edward Elric, Alternate Universe - No Conqueror of Shamballa, Alternate Universe - Post 03, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Professor Edward Elric, Student Tom Riddle, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26573488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkaySky/pseuds/OkaySky
Summary: The year is 1944, Tom's final year at Hogwarts. A new professor, a muggle who seems to have discovered the secret to transmute his very being into gold, offers the possibility of a glimpse at the forbidden. Immortality comes in more than one avenue, and Tom will stop at nothing to ensure he can live forever; horcruxes alone are not enough when the philosopher's stone exists. A lonely alchemist, desperate to return to his long-lost home, will teach Tom his secrets if it means he can leave this foreign world behind.How low can they sink when they are both already at the bottom?
Relationships: Edward Elric/Tom Riddle
Comments: 10
Kudos: 47





	Private Lessons in the Art of Naivety, Dominance, and Occasionally Alchemy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chalela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chalela/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Fading Footsteps](https://archiveofourown.org/works/102135) by [stickmarionette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickmarionette/pseuds/stickmarionette). 



> For Cha who loves Tom/Ed but can't find any material for it.
> 
> Special thanks to inconsequentialvrb for reading over this and providing delicious feedback on how to up the ante so far, and for babbling with me about where this little fic will go from here.

In the summer of 1944, Tom Riddle received his yearly Hogwarts letter with a list of required school supplies and other announcements for the coming year. For most students entering their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, this letter might not have posed much interest, but Tom diligently scanned each page for any news, as was expected of a prefect. There were two interesting pieces of information that caught his attention. The first was a letter of congratulations declaring him the Head Boy of Slytherin House for the remainder of his time at school; the second, an announcement of a new course being offered at Hogwarts the coming year: alchemy.

Tom quirked a small smirk at the first letter; the position of Head Boy placed him in even greater influence over his fellow Slytherin, and would aid him further in his goals of recruiting a following post-graduation. The second brought much more genuine interest. Alchemy was a subject that had not been taught at Hogwarts in recent years due partly to lack of interest among the student body, and partly due to lack of a teacher skilled enough in the subject to teach it with any depth beyond what could be learned in an advanced potions course. As such, Tom had not had an opportunity to study the subject in-depth, but he knew of one of alchemy’s greatest creations: the philosopher’s stone. 

It had been several years since Tom had first begun researching and putting plans in motion to achieve immortality. The creation of his first horcrux the year before was an extremely impressive feat, if he was any judge, and he felt himself quite qualified to judge given the countless hours he had spent poring over tomes full of arcane knowledge. However, he knew that a horcrux alone would not grant him eternal life. If his sole horcrux was ever found and destroyed, he would become mortal again. As he had been planning ever since Professor Slughorn had confirmed the possibility of multiple horcruxes the year before, Tom intended to make 7 horcruxes to hopefully diminish the odds of him ever surrendering to death. But still, it would only do that: diminish the odds. With a philosopher’s stone, however… The elixir of life combined with his cache of hidden horcruxes would put him as close as one could get to being an immortal being. 

Tom doubted very much that he would learn how to create the legendary stone in one year of alchemy lessons, but it could certainly put him on the right track. And if the professor was at all… pliable, then Tom was quite certain he would be able to charm more than just the basic curriculum from them. Perhaps he could even learn enough to conduct further study on his own, alone, and create the stone all by himself.

Oh, yes. His final year at Hogwarts was going to be a year worth attending.

***

When the carriages delivered the upperclassmen to the gates of Hogwarts, Tom hurriedly dismounted ahead of his companions, gave a friendly pat to the neck of the thestral that had pulled him up the road, and strode quickly ahead of his fellow students towards the entrance. A Slytherin boy behind him yelled, “What’s the rush?” after him when he was the first to reach the doors, and he simply flashed a dashing smile over his shoulder at them. It was true that it was rather unusual for him to be anything but composed, but he couldn’t help himself. He was feeling so full of giddy excitement for the coming year that he was desperate to be inside the castle’s walls. This giddiness could be attributed in great part to his eagerness to set his eyes on this new alchemy professor and begin his plans.

Hurrying into the Great Hall where the start of term feast would be held, Tom’s eyes scanned the staff table at the far end of the room as he made his way to the end of the Slytherin table to seat himself at the head. His eyes passed over the familiar faces of tenured professors who had been serving since years past, and then, at the near end of the row, was a blond man he had never seen before.

To call him “blond” might have been doing him a disservice. The man’s hair, long bangs and an elegant high ponytail twisting down over one shoulder, was a bright gold that gleamed like dragon’s scales under the flickering candle lights. His lightly tanned skin seemed to glow from within, and the light poured out of his bright amber eyes, glistening like gemstones. Tom swallowed dryly and carefully settled himself into his seat without looking, unable to tear his eyes away from the man. He had no doubts in his mind that this was the new alchemy professor. If ever there was a human being that perfectly embodied their craft, it was him; it seemed he had truly turned from base elements into gold. He was beautiful. Tom would make him  _ his _ .

A current of electricity raced up Tom’s spine when those bright eyes suddenly snapped to him, and he was instantly and completely trapped in that gaze. The intelligent eyes darted over him, assessing him, analysing him, no doubt taking in the badges pinned to his chest labeling him a prefect as well as Head Boy. Though his face was mostly composed in a blank mask, the man’s eyes seemed too full of emotion: curiosity, interest, wariness, caution, and others too numerous and quickly passing by for him to recognize. The face of a man who had so many secrets to keep, that he had learned to hide all of his tells? Hard to say without more information on him. The corner of the man’s mouth twitched, whether fighting a grimace or a smirk Tom could not tell, and then those catlike aureate eyes danced away. Tom inhaled sharply, suddenly realizing he had been holding his breath.

The man had a truly intimidating presence, and just the thought of trying to carefully tease apart his seams to get at the knowledge hidden within without being crushed in the process sent a thrill over Tom’s flesh, raising goosebumps on his skin. He only had one year to charm and dazzle this new professor the way he had done for all the rest (save Dumbledore, who knew too much to ever be won over), and he had to make the most of it. Tom’s teeth worried at the inside of his lip as he forced his face to remain calm, hiding the feral grin that fought to rip his mouth open to his ears.

***

The first alchemy class of the semester was on Tuesday, and was the last class on Tom’s agenda for the day. He stood outside the locked door of the designated classroom with a small handful of other seventh year students, the only ones in his year who were both interested in learning alchemy and had the necessary grades in prerequisite courses to be admitted. Tom checked his wristwatch idly as he eavesdropped on a conversation being held between two Ravenclaw girls; only four minutes remained until class was scheduled to begin.

“If they had included a picture of Professor Elric when they announced this class, I’m sure more students would have enrolled,” tittered the black-haired Ravenclaw girl.

“How old do you reckon he is?” pondered her curly-haired companion. “He looks awfully young to be a professor.”

“Age has nothing to do with knowledge and skill, if one applies oneself,” the first girl replied snootily.

“Still, I imagine he must know an awful lot about alchemy for him to be teaching it rather than potions or something.”

“Perhaps he took up the position because we already have Professor Slughorn as a potions master?”

“I just can’t see Headmaster Dippet hiring someone for a subject without that subject being their specialty. He must be an alchemy prodigy or something.”

“No one has called me a prodigy in years,” a raspy tenor voice interjected in a lazy American drawl. “It’s still probably true, though.”

The Ravenclaw girls startled, cheeks flushing, and all eyes turned to the figure that had joined the conversation. Professor Edward Elric stood a few feet away from them, checking a pocketwatch for the time and seeming satisfied, though Tom noted he was only one minute early. Tom also noted that, when standing, Professor Elric was a much smaller man than he had first assumed. His broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, giving him the appearance of a seasoned fighter from the waist-up, as Tom had seen him when seated at the feast. But now that they were standing just feet away from each other, Tom was surprised to see that the top of Professor Elric’s blond ponytail would have barely brushed his chin. In his mind’s eye he could almost picture his hand snatching in that golden fall and jerking the professor’s head back to see terror in his expressive yellow eyes.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” the professor declared as he stepped through the crowd of students, who parted hurriedly before him, to unlock the classroom door. 

The classroom was mostly empty, save for a number of desks arranged in a half-circle around a chalkboard that had been laid out on the floor. Professor Elric walked briskly to the corner of the room where a large teacher’s desk stood, laying his satchel across the surface and rummaging around in the desk drawers for something. The students took their seats around the half circle; there were so few of them that everyone had a front-row seat before the chalkboard.

“Right then,” the blond man muttered to himself as he approached the chalkboard, dropping down to kneel on the floor beside it. In his left hand was a stick of chalk. As he began to sketch a large circle on the board, he asked the room at large, “What is alchemy?”

The curly-haired Ravenclaw girl raised her hand. Professor Elric ignored it, still sketching. Hesitantly, the girl withdrew her hand and tentatively supplied, “It’s sort of like transfiguration and potions combined, turning one thing into another, usually in the pursuit of gold or everlasting life.”

The professor barked a laugh. “I guess those are two things you can do with alchemy, but I wouldn’t say they’re the usual goals. Not for the average alchemist, anyways. You’re correct about it being used to turn one thing into another, more or less. Anyone else have any ideas?”

Tom raised his hand slightly, catching the attention of the professor who glanced at him and grimaced. “You don’t need to raise your hands in here, just come out and say what’s on your mind,” the alchemist ordered. Tom lowered his hand, lips twitching up into a smirk.  _ So easily riled _ , he thought before he answered.

“Alchemy is more closely related to science than transfiguration, and is not necessarily used in the production of a specific substance like potions making,” Tom supplied. “It uses the four basic elements to transmute matter from one form to another, permanently.”

“Bingo,” Professor Elric said, pointing the chalk at home. “10 points to the blue team, 20 to the green one.” A Gryffindor girl snickered, but was silenced immediately when those golden eyes snapped to her. Tom shivered at the memory of being trapped in that amber gaze himself.

“I will make some amendments to both of your definitions,” the blond said, sketching in new symbols around the circle before him. “Alchemy is indeed a science, not magic, and is used to transmute matter. There are, however, many more than four elements. There’s about a hundred known to mankind now, and definitely more exist beyond our current knowledge. Hell, more are being discovered all the time. This is basic chemistry. If I had to sum up alchemy in a brief definition, I would say it is the science of understanding, deconstructing, and reconstructing matter. And it follows the laws of science, such as the preservation of mass and energy, and can display physical and chemical reactions that magic doesn’t do, like boiling and freezing upon transmutation. It follows other laws, too; we’ll cover those in a bit.”

The professor rose from where he had been kneeling and returned to his satchel, digging in it for a moment before returning to the chalkboard with a hefty chunk of metal in both hands. He placed the metal carefully in the center of the circle, knelt at the edge, and pointed to the Gryffindor girl at his right, on the end of the rows of desks. “You, tell me your name and then come down here with me.” 

“Olivia Baumgartner,” the girl supplied, sliding from her seat and kneeling on the ground beside him. Professor Elric placed his hands on the circle and then gestured for the girl to do the same. When her palms touched the chalk, the circle began to glow brightly until all the students had to shut their eyes against the blinding light. When they were able to see again, they saw the metal lump had been transfigured — or rather, transmuted — into an elaborate suit of armor the size of a toy doll. 

“ _ This _ is alchemy,” the man declared. “I doubt that any of you will be able to perform a transmutation this detailed after just one year of studying under me, but you will be able to perform these types of transmutations eventually. 

The gathered students exploded into eager questions, and for the first time since he had laid eyes on him, Tom saw the blank mask on the professor’s face fall away to be replaced by a sharp-edged grin. 

***

The first alchemy class of the year ended with much excitement. The students in the class, all studious and intelligent with top marks, had been entranced by the new professor’s unusual approaches to teaching where it seemed like he was treating them as equals more than students, as well as entranced by the subject matter, which was nothing like anything they had been taught at Hogwarts so far. Several students hung back to ask the professor follow-up questions, most of which he assured them were great questions but would have to wait until they had more lessons under their belts before they would fully understand the answers, or that they were going to be covered soon in class anyways so they would best wait. Tom stayed at his desk, slowly and meticulously putting away his things with one eye on the dissipating crowd. When the last straggler had disappeared through the door, he rose to his feet and slung his bag over one shoulder. The golden-haired alchemist was leaned back against his desk, arms crossed over his chest, and was eying Tom speculatively.

“Did you have some questions too, Mr. Riddle, or are you just taking your time?” Professor Elric asked. 

“I do have some questions, sir, if you don’t mind,” Tom confirmed, stepping closer until they were only a couple of paces apart. Now that they were both standing again, Tom was once again struck by how odd it felt to look down at this man, both because the vast majority of their time together so far had been on equal level with Tom seated, and because his presence made him seem twice his diminutive size. And at the same time, Tom wanted to wrap his fingers around the professor’s neck and bend him backwards over the desk. To feel power over this man who was practically thrumming with it.

“You can go ahead and ask them, but I’m guessing they’ll be more questions I can’t really answer with how little alchemic knowledge you have at this point,” Professor Elric mused ruefully, scrubbing at the back of his neck with his left hand.

“I had figured as much from what you had told the other students, so I’ll hold my tongue on any such questions for now,” Tom replied smoothly. The professor met his eye, brow furrowing slightly.

“What kind of questions do you have then?”

“Well, for one, I was wondering if you might tell me where you learned alchemy from,” Tom began. “You teach it with such a unique approach, that it feels completely unlike any magic I’ve ever been introduced to.”

“That’s partly because it’s not magic,” the alchemist scoffed, and then his voice grew quiet and rough as he visibly submerged beneath the surface of his own past. “Like I said, it’s a science. I’m not a magic-user, I’m a— what do you people call it? A muggle? Whatever, I’m not a wizard. My dad was an alchemist, and he left behind a lot of books and notes when—... Well, my brother and I studied his texts and bounced ideas off of each other as kids. So I guess I’m sort of self-taught, although I did have a teacher later on too.”  _ Daddy issues and a brother, huh?  _ Tom filed away the details about the professor’s family before latching onto the much more pressing topic at hand.

“You’re not a wizard?” Tom asked. “What ever are you doing teaching at a school for ‘witchcraft and wizardry’ if you aren’t a wizard?”

“I wanted access to your library for my research,” Professor Elric said with a shrug. 

“May I ask what you’re researching?” Tom pressed. The professor stared at him for a moment, expressionless, before looking away, lips tightening and eyebrows drawing low.

“No, you may not.”

“My apologies, sir, I didn’t mean to pry,” Tom soothed. The professor huffed a small laugh.

“It’s fine, it’s just a private topic, that’s all. You didn’t know.” The professor sighed, stroking his ponytail over his shoulder, and segued transparently, “You said you had multiple questions?”

“Yes, sir,” Tom began, but was cut off when the professor waved his hand around like he was swatting at a fly in front of his face.

“You can cut it out with the ‘sir’s,” he snapped. “Reminds me of my military days. Just ‘Ed’ is fine, or ‘Professor’ if you have to.”  _ And former military too? Of which military, and when? _ The man hardly looked old enough to have become an alchemical specialist and served in the military, but Tom had already suspected the man was full of secrets. He would add this one to his collection of pressure points to stress at a later date, when he had more leverage.

“Alright… Ed,” Tom tried out. It felt horribly out of line to be calling a professor by his first name, but the alchemist showed no sign that it bothered him as much as it bothered Tom, even seeming to relax some, so the teenager continued. “I was curious why you had Olivia join you in performing that transmutation at the beginning of class.”

“Like I said, I’m not a wizard,” Ed began, “so I can’t just use the magical energies that you people tap into in order to activate the transmutation circle. In this world, it isn’t enough to understand the science behind the transmutation and have the array correctly drawn, you need a spark to start the reaction. I can’t transmute on my own.” A bitter smile tugged one corner of his mouth up. “Before I learned about wizards and agreed to work here, I hadn’t been able to perform a transmutation in  _ so long _ , you don’t even know.” His voice broke mid-sentence, and his eyes shimmered with the threat of unshed tears. Tom rescinded his previous notions about Ed being difficult to read; once he started talking, it seemed like the mask fell away at the slightest breeze.

Tom digested the new information about Ed’s inability to transmute, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His plan was beginning to fall into place, and he needed only to press the right buttons now.

“Professor… Ed, I was wondering if you might agree to teaching private alchemy lessons outside of class,” he said. “While I’m certain the class itself will be challenging, I want to know more in-depth information. Study the chemistry as well as the alchemy, since we don’t get much in the way of a scientific education at this school. I could also help you with your research,” he offered, dangling the bait in front of Ed’s widening eyes. “If you need a wizard to activate your transmutations, then I could activate the arrays for your private use. I don’t need to know their contents, if you don’t want me to, of course, but I would be delighted to help such an intelligent and talented man such as yourself with his academic endeavors.”

Tom knew he was laying it on a bit thickly, but he felt he had hit the nail right on the head when Ed’s cheeks flushed just a few shades darker and he ducked his head, staring at the floor. Pushing his luck just a few inches further, Tom took a step closer so that when Ed’s gaze leapt from the floor to meet Tom’s eyes, they were close enough that the ghost of Tom’s breath caused Ed’s bangs to flutter gently in the breeze. Tom smiled softly and breathed, “Please, Professor?”

Ed shivered and blinked rapidly, sliding to one side and out from under the shadow of Tom’s presence. He avoided Tom’s eyes as he picked up his satchel from where it still lay on the ground and swung it over his shoulder. Briefly Tom feared that he had pushed the shorter man too far, but then Ed looked over his shoulder at Tom and declared, “If you can get at least a 95% grade on every assignment for this month, I’ll consider it.” The emotionless mask was firmly back in place.

“It’s a deal,” Tom purred back, his own mask pulling back just enough for his grin to turn predatory as Ed turned to leave. He would not waste this opportunity. 


End file.
